


Band Nerds

by orphan_account



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Based on a SpongeBob SquarePants Episode, Gen, Lots of OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26979577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After being challenged by an old rival, Electra and her components have to drum up a marching band to compete in the Super Bowl. #FuckYouNFL
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Band Nerds

It was another day in the bustling electric metropolis of Neon York. Electric trains scattered throughout the streets doing their daily routine while in one of the thousands of high-rise apartments, Electra was being tended to by her entourage of components - Killerwatt the security truck, Purse the money truck, Joule the reactor truck, Volta the logistics/radio truck, Wrench the repair truck and finally Tesla the generator car. After a knock rang throughout the apartment, Joule answered the door to find two veterinarians standing out in the hall.

“Hi, um, we’re with the pet hospital down the road and we understand you have a dying animal on the premises?”, asked one of them before Joule promptly slammed the door in their faces.  _ How they mistook Electra’s maintenance whirring for a dying animal, I’ll never know _ , she thought to herself as her attention was drawn to a nearby phone. She picked it up, and after adjusting her hair, perked up as she spoke into the receiver.

“Hello, the living room of renowned superstar challenger Electra’s elegant Upper West Side apartment on a sunny Thursday afternoon in January. Who may I say is calling?”, she spoke with a bright disposition before her face immediately dropped. Holding the phone in one hand, she raced back up to the bedroom where Volta was in the middle of stylizing Electra’s mohawk. Joule gave her boss the phone, and she spoke into it.

“Hello. You’ve reached the house of a renowned superstar challenger. Please start after the-” Electra beeped musically as the person on the other end answered.

“Sounds as though you’ve got a dying animal to attend to, eh, old friend?”, said the voice. Electra immediately knew who it was from the vocal inflections.

“Elton? My old classmate from the Neon York Conservatory?!”she asked, very surprised as the voice continued talking.

“So what’s this I hear about you losing to a steam train in last year’s Great Race?”, Elton chimed perkily. Electra looked towards her components, who didn’t have anything for her to bounce off of surprisingly.

“Uh...that was…a thing that happened,” Electra stammered, trying to find the words to say. “How’s that mustache of yours?”

“It’s THICC and  _ very  _ bushy. I’ve been meaning it to get trimmed for a while, but I’ve been preoccupied with other matters”, Elton responded, and though Electra couldn’t see it, she could just picture Elton’s mustache wiggling from the way he spoke. “You see, I’m the leader of a big fancy band now, and we’re supposed to play the SUPER BOWL next week.”

“The S-Su-S-Sa? The S-Su-Sa-Su? The Su-Sa-S-So?”, Electra stammered. Had she heard Elton correctly? THE Super Bowl? As in, the most prestigious football game in recorded history?

“That’s right; I’m living  _ your  _ dreams, ‘Lectra. The only problem is, I have to be out of town next week and I won’t be able to make it. So, I was hoping you and  _ your  _ band could cover for us”, Elton explained. Electra was confused as hell; how was she going to tell him that-

“I knew it! You don’t even  _ have  _ a band,” Elton mockingly said as Electra clutched the non-existent pearls around her neck. “Well, I’ll just let you get back to your pathetic retirement now. Let me know how the conversion to steam go-”

“HOOOOOOOLD IT!!!!”, shouted Electra as she gripped the phone tighter than a hand-press. She spoke into the receiver with such defiance it would make Leonidas of Sparta seem like a weakling by comparison.

“Here’s the deal, sonny boy; it just so happens that I’m NOT retired. I’m NOT converting to steam. I DO have a band, and we’re gonna PLAY that Super Bowl! How do you like that, fancy BOY?!”, she roared as the components kept their mouths shut.

“Good luck next Sunday. I hope the audience brings lots of…  _ ibuprofen _ ,” Elton responded calmly as he hung up. Electra dropped the receiver and was carried over to her bed by Killerwatt and Tesla. As a cold compress was applied to her forehead and chest, she looked towards her entourage worriedly.

“Oh, my dear components, what have I done?! Now I’ve got to drum up a marching band fast!”, Electra moaned as Tesla found himself slightly chuckling.

“‘Drum’. Band humor,” said the generator truck as Electra eyed him angrily.

_West Gershwin, the next day…_

Zach the Amtrak and his girlfriend Laura the Luggage Van were having a fun time on their vacation in West Gershwin. They had just gotten done watching a performance of _Little Shed of Horrors_ and were making plans for dinner when Laura noticed a flyer on a lamppost. She grabbed it and began scanning the page as the couple stopped at a crosswalk.

“‘ _Looking to add fulfillment to your dull, dull life_?’”, she read before giving the flyer to Zach, who continued reading.

“‘ _Then become part of the greatest musical sensation ever to hit Railway City_ ’,” said the Amtrak as he looked towards the baggage car, who shrugged her arms in confusion.

_In the Apollo Victoria Railyard’s Freight Quarter…_

“ _‘And be forever adored by thousands of people you don’t know’_?” read Rocky 3 as she handed the flyer to her siblings to see. C.B. snatched it out of Rocky 2’s hands and scanned it for himself.

“‘ _Not to mention… FREE refreshments, as well as monetary compensation in case of injury_ ’,” C.B. grinned at the prospect of getting money for injuring other people.

_In the Coach Quarter’s showers…_

“‘ _ Practice begins tonight at 7:30 sharp _ ’”, Buffy read as she lathered herself with some soap.

_That same night, 7:45pm…_

Electra growled as she and the Components struggled to make it to the rehearsal space they had rented out. Joule’s watch now read 7:45pm - a full 15 minutes behind their intended time.

“Stupid music rental clerk made us late,” Electra muttered as she gripped the steering wheel tightly. “That troglodyte couldn’t tell the difference between an oboe and an elbow!”

“Elbow. More band humor,” Tesla chuckled as the group finally pulled into the parking lot of an old warehouse. As they made their way inside, they noticed a LOT of trains had shown up to participate; they were able to pinpoint where Greaseball, Rusty, C.B., Pearl and Dinah amongst others were. As they got up on the stage in front of them, Electra shot a bolt of lightning to settle down the restless trains.

“OK, now. How many of you have played musical instruments before?”, Electra asked. C.B.’s hand raised up.

“Do instruments of torture count?”, C.B. asked with a devilish grin as he held up a whip and ball gag in the other hand.

“No,” Electra promptly responded as Dustin’s hand shot up.

“Um… this is more of a question for my friend’s pet brick, but is mayonnaise an instrument?”, Dustin asked while Flat-Top snickered.

“No, Dustin; mayonnaise is not an instrument,” Volta answered coldly. Dustin set his hand back down, only to rise it up again.

“Horseradish is not an instrument either,” she answered once again as Dustin remained quiet.

“That’s fine; no one has any experience. Fortunately, my entourage has enough talent for each and every one of you!”, Electra said as she slapped herself on the knee at her joke. She noticed everyone else didn’t laugh, so she stopped.

“When do we get the free food?!”, Buffy shouted as the Components got out their instruments.

“After practice. Now, then, try to repeat after me,” Electra explained as she blew on a flute, a simple six-note melody. She pointed towards one part of the crowd. “Brass section, go!”

The brass section - consisting of Ruhrgold, Brandy, Roulette and Zero the Freezer Truck - copied the melody on their instruments (tuba, trombone, saxophone and French horn) respectively. Electra smiled.

“Good, now the winds!”, she said to another part of the crowd. Memphis Belle, Sandy, Misako and Pearl copied the melody on their instruments (piccolo, clarinet, oboe and bassoon) as well. Electra, getting caught up in the movement, pointed again.

“AND THE DRUMS!”, she shouted. The drum section - consisting of Rusty, Prince of Wales and Dustin - didn’t get the message. They began blowing their drumsticks to create a sound, only for them to shoot out towards the components. Electra jumped up to defend herself, only to see that she had not been the target of impact.

She looked over and saw Krupp - her old armaments truck - impaled to the wall by the drumsticks. He looked over towards her, and hoarsely whispered “Tell them it was a great shot” before falling unconscious due to blood loss.

A few minutes later, Krupp was en route to the hospital while practice continued on as normal. “Let’s try stepping in rhythm. I want everyone to stand in straight rows of five; no more, no less,” Electra suggested while holding a bandleader’s baton. Rusty stood up and raised his hand eagerly.

“Is this the part where we start kicking?”, Rusty asked. Electra sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before facing the steamer once again.

“No, Rusty; that would be a chorus line,” Electra groaned as C.B. got up, still holding a guitar.

“Kicking? I’m down for some kicking!”, said the caboose as he promptly kicked Ashley in the leg, bringing the smoking car to her knees. Ashley, clutching her thigh, looked at the psychopathic brake truck and glared with the red-hot intensity of a thousand suns.

“Why, you little…”, Ashley growled before lunging for C.B.’s throat. The two started fighting, clawing and punching each other before rolling outside. The fighting seemed to die down, only for a long, loud and very painful scream from C.B..

The rehearsal turned quiet with everyone’s attention focused on the door. After a few minutes, C.B.’s head poked through the double-doors, with his hat missing and his blonde hair frazzled. He seemed to be in great pain, which was evident as he spoke with gritted teeth.

“Whoever’s the owner of the black 2005 Chevy Impala with the leather seats, you left your blinkers on,” the caboose whimpered as he began crawling back to his seat.

The sight of him was a ghastly one: C.B.’s head sticking out of a trombone, which seemed to elongate his body to spaghetti noodle-proportions, with a cigarette lighter sticking out of his ass. With every step he took, the trombone made noises much to the discomfort and bizarrement of everyone around him. He took his seat, only for the trombone’s slide to suddenly shoot up, and recede with C.B. opening his mouth. The sound that emitted from his vocal chambers was a mixture of both trombone and the screams of pain from deep inside his very soul.

_Day Two_

Wrench had proposed the idea of having everyone practice marching while playing their instruments. After getting everyone ready, Killerwatt began leading the engines in formation with Electra and the other Components following close by to monitor the progress. The engines were marching down a closed-off section of Railway City, so no busy trains could interrupt them.

“OK, that’s perfect, everybody. Super Bowl, here we come!”, Killerwatt shouted over the horrid sound of the untuned instruments blasting and squawking. “Flag twirlers, REALLY spin those things!”, ordered the security truck at two people twirling the flags: a gangster-wannabe brakevan named Canoose and Prince of Wales’ lesser-known younger brother Brexit.

“Okay, turn”, commanded Killerwatt as they reached a turn-off point. The marchers followed suit, but the component noticed Canoose and Brexit seemingly lacking in their flag twirling.

“Flag twirlers, let’s go! I want to see some spinning”, Killerwatt shouted as the two began spinning faster and faster. Electra and the Components watched with much interest as the security truck continued barking orders at them.

“Flag twirlers, let’s move! COME ON! **MOVE!!!!** ”, he shouted as Canoose and Brexit spun their flags so hard that one moment they were on the ground, the next they were flying through the air. The band came to a stop to watch the two soar through the sky before they collided with a blimp, resulting in a mid-air explosion.

After the blast, Electra unshielded her eyes to see fragments of the blimp, the British Union Jack flag and Canoose’s fedora sprinkling over them. Without a word, Laura pulled out a trumpet and began playing “Taps” as everyone bowed their heads in a moment of silence for the lives lost.

Electra, meanwhile, just laid down on the ground and bit her fist trying not to freak out.

_Day Three_

As everyone was busy rehearsing, Electra and Volta came over to check on Momma McCoy, who had been mostly keeping to herself the past two tryouts.

“How’s your harmonica solo coming, Momma?”, asked Electra as if she were making the rounds.

“It’s tremendous, Electra. Y’wanna see?”, she responded before chuffing over to a big-ass harmonica. Like, the size of this thing was roughly the same as a container unit.

Momma rubbed her hands together, sucked in a big breath and blew into one hole producing one very loud note. After chuffing over to another hole, she took in another breath and blew again. She raced over to another section, and blew into three holes with short blasts of air.

But sure enough, she would run out of breath; upon reaching one more hole, she blew an unsuccessful raspberry creating a very high-pitched note before she dropped to the floor and fainted.

_Day Four_

Electra and the Components got up on stage to face their band; these past few days were absolute hell in tryouts, but maybe they could pull something together tonight.

“Well, this is our last night together before the show and while some of you have improved considerably, I know most of you have NOT since we began this venture,” Electra chirped worriedly. She looked over to a small group of trains - consisting of Ashley, Buffy, Memphis Belle, Rocky 4, Sandy, Misako, Zach and Laura - playing their instruments fairly decently before looking back and seeing Flat-Top gnawing on a trumpet while Dustin and Rusty looked on concernedly.

“BUT… Joule might have a theory that will solve all our problems,” Electra said before letting Joule take over. Cracking her knuckles, the reactor truck faced the crowd.

“People talk loud when they want to act smart, right?”, she asked.

“THAT’S CORRECT!”, shouted C.B. right into Momma’s ear, forcing the steamer to sock him in the face.

“So the working theory I have is if we play LOUD, then people might actually think we’re somewhat competent,” Joule explained as she raised a conductor’s baton. “Is everybody ready to test my theory?”

Everyone perked up and held their instruments, eager to test it out. With a wave of the baton, Joule conducted the makeshift band. “And-a one, and-a two, and-a one, two, three, FOUR!”

To the average person, the noise that followed would’ve either blown out their eardrums or caused a slight disturbance to their peaceful evening. It was a cacophonous, distorted plethora of untuned instruments playing as loudly as they could - to the point where the glass windows on their venue broke from the volume.

Joule, her hair completely frizzled, got back up to face the crowd once again while the components tended to Electra, whose mohawk wig had blown off from the blast.

“Okay… new theory: maybe we should play SO quietly, no one can hear us,” suggested Joule. Despite being deafened by the noise, the band picked up their instruments once again and began readying themselves to play.

“And-a one, and-a two, and-a one, two, three, FOUR!”, shouted Joule once more only for the band to not play. After a few moments of silence, she got their attention.

“Um, guys? That means it’s time to pla-”

A repeat of the deafening cacophonous melody played out, leaving Joule and Electra’s hair frizzled once more. As Joule got back up again, she pulled out her conductor baton - which promptly snapped in half - and faced the band.

“Okay… new NEW theory. Maybe we should-”

“Just shut the fuck up,” groaned Electra as she pushed the fiery component offstage. As the electric superstar looked towards the crowd, signs of discourse slowly but surely began rippling.

“Well maybe we wouldn’t sound so bad if SOME trains didn’t try to simp for Southern dining cars!”, chimed in Rocky 1. Greaseball, who had been standing next to him, took offense to this claim.

“What did you say, PUNK?!”, said G.B. as he poked Rocky 1 right in the chest. The boxcar’s siblings looked towards the diesel furiously.

“Simping… for… Southern dining cars!”, punctuated Rocky 2 as he glared venomously at him.

“Well, this ‘simp’ isn’t just into the Southern chicks!”, responded G.B. as he brought up his fists towards the boxcars. Rockies 3 and 4 stood in front of their brothers, ready to kick some ass.

“Bring it on, you Elvis Presley wannabe! BRING IT ON!”, shouted the girls as they cracked their knuckles and glared daggers at him. Pearl stood in-between the three trying to keep the peace.

“No, people. Let’s be smart here and call it off,” she suggested calmly, only for Coco to scoff and look at the first-class coach with contempt.

“Oh, so now the first-class homewrecker’s gonna PREACH to us!”, Coco growled as the other trains began arguing. Electra, worried at what might happen, tried to distill the flames before they could be fanned even further.

“Wait, wait! I know tensions are high, but-”

Electra never finished that sentence, because before she could, a massive brawl broke out amongst the marching band. Coco and Rhinegold began arguing with each other before Duvay slammed a drum on the German.

“There’s a deposit on the equipment, you ANIMALS!”, Purse cried as Greaseball and the Rockies charged at each other with large woodwinds. But they began screeching to a halt only for Memphis Belle to slam them both with some cymbals.

“SETTLE DOWN, **PLEASE!!!** ”, shouted Volta as Ashley fought with Misako. The smoking car broke the xylophone the poor Shinkansen bullet was holding, and she was about to chase after her before C.B. kicked her to the ground. Ashley growled, but then grinned wickedly as she produced a cigarette lighter.

C.B., realizing what was to come, ran away screeching as Ashley chased after him. The clock suddenly ticked 10:00pm, and everyone stopped fighting to see.

“Hey! Class is over,” said Dinah upon looking up from strangling Pearl.

Almost instantly, the mood changed. Everyone made amends and agreed to see each other next practice, and they were headed towards the exit when the doors flew open to reveal Electra and the Components looking utterly despondent.

“Well...you did it. You took my ONE chance at happiness… and you _crushed_ it! Crushed it into little, tiny, bite-size pieces,” Electra bluntly stated in a disappointed tone.

“We really had expected _better_ of you people. But I guess that means we’re losers for that too,” Killerwatt said before turning his head in shame.

“Just don’t bother showing up tomorrow,” Joule wept as she buried her face into Volta’s shoulder, with the logistics truck comforting her friend by stroking her hair.

“We’ll just tell them you all died in a freak marching accident,” frowned Tesla as he and the rest of the components hitched up to Electra. With a pitiful toot of her horn, Electra trundled slowly away into the night.

“So thanks. Thanks for _nothing_!”, Electra shouted as she and the components left in distress of their apparent failure, leaving the others all by themselves.

“...you’re welcome,” Dustin responded as he still tried to understand what they had said. But Rusty, having heard everything, chuffed in front of the group and looked at them.

“What kind of monsters are we? That poor train came to us in her hour of need… and we failed her,” Rusty spoke as everyone stopped to listen to him. “Electra’s always been there for  _ us  _ when it was convenient for her! Ashley, when your golden cigar box was trapped in a fire, who retrieved it?”

“A firefighter?”, responded the confused smoking car.

“And Krupp, when we nearly impaled you with our drumsticks, who revived you?”, Rusty asked the armaments truck, who had managed to recover, albeit using crutches to stand.

“Some guy in an ambulance,” answered Krupp as he struggled to stand.

“Right! So if we could all pretend that Electra was a firefighter or some guy in an ambulance, then I’m sure we can all pull together and discover what it truly means to be a Band Geek,” Rusty finished passionately as everyone became inspired.

“Yeah, for the firemen!”, shouted Flat-Top as everyone cheered. They were ready to give practice one more try, as they all picked up their instruments and began tuning them properly this time.

“Now let’s make Electra and her components proud,” Rusty announced determinedly as he got up on stage to face the band. Holding two conductor’s batons, he took command as their new trainer.

“A one, a two, a skiddly-diddly-doo!”

_The next morning, outside the Neon York Stadium…_

Electra and the components made their way towards the band’s entrance to the stadium. The spectators were cheering loudly, as Joule heard them from outside. Today was the day of the Super Bowl; the biggest football event in recorded history. They didn’t bother looking at which teams were competing tonight, since they were more concerned about their boss looking completely defeated.

“I knew this was going to happen. They’re just going to have to find another band to play,” Electra moaned as she and the components disconnected from each other to enter the tunnel.

“I just hope that- ELTON DOESN’T FIND OUT! **ELTON!!!** **_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!_ **”, Electra screamed as she saw her rival - mustache and all - leaning against the wall with a cigarette. His monochrome colors made him stand out like a sore thumb compared to the flashy and colorful palettes of Electra and the components.

“What are you doing here?!”, Electra cried as Elton laughed heartily before stomping out his cigarette.

“I just wanted to watch you _blow_ it,” explained Elton as he looked at her components, who were glaring daggers at him. “So, where’s your band?”

“Um, well, uh… y’see, the thing is… they couldn’t come because they, uh… died,” stammered Wrench as Electra began sweating bullets.

“Then who’s _that_?”

Electra looked over to where Elton was pointing at, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. There, dressed up in band uniforms, were her friends from the Apollo Victoria Railyard - with Rusty and Momma leading them!

“THAT WOULD BE MY BAND!”, shouted Electra worriedly as Momma held out a bandleader’s cap towards her.

“We’re ready to perform, Electra!”, Momma said confidently as Elton sneered at them.

“Well, ‘Lectra, this is EXACTLY how I pictured your band would look,” cackled the monochrome train as C.B. did a silly little dance that he thought made him look cool.

“That’s his… eager face,” Electra squeaked as she took the cap from Momma and put it on. She, the components and the band walked down the tunnel as Elton began laughing. They neared the exit as Electra looked towards her friends.

“I guess this’ll be the last time I can show my face in this town,” she worried as Rusty put his hand on her shoulder to calm her nerves.

“That’s the spirit, Electra,” Rusty said reassuringly as the band raced out onto the field while the announcer spoke.

“OK, football fans. It is now officially halftime, so please put your hands together for the Railway City Super Band!”, shouted the announcer as the stadium went wild. The engines could only look around and see various electric trains; not a single one looked like them.

“These are some ugly looking trains,” commented Flat-Top under his breath.

“Maybe we’re near one of those toxic fuel dumps,” Memphis Belle commented as she wrinkled her nose.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” choked Greaseball as Electra stood in front of the band. She looked over and saw Elton on the sidelines, grinning and bouncing his mustache at her.

“Okay, everybody. Let’s get this over with,” whimpered the superstar as she began conducting and bracing for the worst. “One, two, three, four…”

A resounding chorus of trumpets sounded out to play a fanfare to their performance. Electra’s eyes popped open and she looked to see C.B. on keyboards, playing a slow synth-like intro. Much like the Red Sea, two halves of the band parted to reveal Rusty on the microphone.

“ _The winner takes all… / It’s the thrill of one more kill / The last one to fall…_ ”, Rusty sang with the silken voice of an ‘80s rockstar. Electra was in awe; how could this be? Last night, they were fighting like crazed animals!

“ _...Will never sacrifice the will!_ ”, Rusty finished the couplet as Dustin played a drum kit to lead into the next verse. A laser-light show ensued with smoke machines shooting out of the stage floor, as Rusty bellowed out the lyrics much to the roaring applause of the audience.

“ _Don’t ever look back / On the world closin’ in / Be on the attack / With your wings on the wind…_ ”, Rusty continued as the rest of the marching band - led by a determined Greaseball - played with such precision and timing that it left Elton with his mouth agape. The sight of Elton being upstaged made Electra smile, as she threw away her conductor baton and started using her arms to lead instead. “ _Oh, the games will begin…_ ”

“ _And it’s sweet, sweet, sweet victory… YEAH!_ ”, harmonized Rusty and C.B. as Greaseball strummed the guitar, Zach rocked the saxophone and Momma blew the harmonica without losing a single breath. “ _It’s ours for the taking / It’s ours for the fight!_ ”

Elton, unable to comprehend the idea of Electra winning, clutched his chest and fainted in shock. A team of paramedics carried him out of the stadium, leaving the components to wave goodbye and rush onstage to join Electra in her moment of triumph.

“ _ And it’s sweet, sweet, sweet victory… YEAH! And the ones who’s last to fall… the winner takes all! _ ”, sang the entire band as Dinah shredded a keytar on her knees. Dustin banged on the drums yet again as Electra danced to the beat, with the components lifting up signs of her name in the air.

As the band began leading into the final section, Electra jumped up into the air as the crowd’s applause roared in her ears. Despite the trials and tribulations, she had done it; she finally won.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my work, it was written by a friend of mine and he gave me permission to post it here as he doesn't have an AO3.


End file.
